Saturday, December 30, 2017

FOREVER AMBER: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1947) Twilight Time

“The Almighty did not give people eyes to read that
rubbish!” – so spaketh Australia’s right honorable Minister for Customs, Senator
Keane upon the 1944 publication of Kathleen Winsor’s Forever Amber; an incendiary novel set during the 1644 revolt in
English parliament and spanning many tumultuous years under the reign of
Charles II. Winsor could afford to bask in the fervor her book had inspired.
Over 100,000 copies sold within the first week; the eventual tally of 3
million, by the time Keane and the Catholic Church had had their say, doing
little to stop its runaway success. In fact, it probably helped. Nothing appeals quite so much to the general
public as sin – particularly viewed from the strictures of button-down
conservatism run amuck.

Indeed, not even
widespread condemnation of the novel as pornography in fourteen U.S. states
could prevent it from becoming a best seller.
Winsor’s fifth draft of a bodice-ripping and bed-bouncing page turner
caught the eye of publishers. Though they elected to distill her prose to
one-third their original size, the novel still sported a formidable girth of
972 pages. Contained within were
references – or, at least inferences
– attesting to seventy acts of intercourse, thirty-nine illegitimate
pregnancies, seven abortions and ten rather blatant descriptions of women undressing
in front of men…shocking! In her own
defense, Winsor was to reply some years later, “I wrote only two sexy passages and my publishers took both of them out.
They put in ellipses instead. In those days, you know, you could solve
everything with an ellipsis.”

By today’s
laissez faire standards, allegations of smut are laughable. Forever Amberis nothing if
well-written and expertly concocted pulp. Implied or not, Forever Ambercomes from a particular ilk in historical romantic
fiction, perhaps having reached its zenith with Margaret Mitchell’s Gone With The Wind. In the wake of
Mitchell’s zeitgeist and, of course, Selznick’s immortalized and celebrated
movie version, other studios began to scramble for like-minded fare; tales of
headstrong female protagonists defying the social conventions of their time –
and occasionally, also the wisdom of
their male ‘superiors’ – to bring
about scandal and reformation; though ultimately wreck and ruin upon their own
heads. Such was the tortured suffering of the fictionalized female martyr;
ringing truer still to the American woman circa 1942 and beyond. As the menfolk
went off to fight in another war, the home front became a bastion for the
pursuit of meaningful work outside of the home. Hence, the independent woman
rising above squalid circumstances by her wit and stubbornness alone proved an
elixir of the times.

Alas, Forever Amberpresented Darryl F.
Zanuck with a considerable quandary. For the novel’s Amber St. Clair was
something of a truly unrepentant harpy; deliciously vial in spots and
maliciously inclined to stir men’s hearts to her own advantage, whatever the
sacrifices made along the way. In some ways, Amber and Scarlett O’Hara are
kissing cousins; although it is unlikely either could have been friends: too
much similarity and competition. Translating the book to the screen also
presented deeper concerns. How to tell the tale of an enterprising creature who
effectively wenches her way into Charles II’s court, gives birth out of
wedlock, murders a nurse and is responsible for the death of at least two men –
one, her lover, the other her husband. Surely, Hollywood censors would
object…and did! To be sure, Winsor’s novel counterbalances such overt
debaucheries with selfless acts of human sacrifice; Amber’s devotion to Bruce
Carlton; the heroic officer who cannot recognize her qualities beyond a brief
night’s interlude, resulting in a child; her never waning devotion to him
(nursing Bruce back from the plague) despite her frequent dalliances with
courtiers and the King.

Zanuck was
forced by the Production Code to omit virtually all of the novel’s more
salacious moments. As a result, Otto Preminger’s Forever Amber (1947) became something of a sissified wan ghost
flower of its source material, the emasculation utterly complete by the casting
of fresh-faced Linda Darnell as the fiery and uncompromising vixen; herein more
prone to sulking and skulking about the antechambers and bedrooms of some
well-heeled suitors in Fox’s most expensive production to date. Screenwriters Philip Dunne and Ring Lardner
Jr. did their utmost to ‘suggest’ the
tawdry appeal of the novel; their efforts submarined by Zanuck’s inability to
spend as lavishly as he would have preferred. Hitherto, the novel’s reputation
as a provocative page-turner had also begun to cool. Although Zanuck’s
publicity department gave the movie a big build-up, Forever Amber was something of a modest success to meager
disappointment for the studio.

Removed from all
of its timely hype, Forever Amber –
the movie – is a fairly enjoyable romp, never entirely prone to bouts of
tedium, though occasionally veering dangerously close to becoming a wordy
critique on classicist social mores, vices and virtues. Moodily lit and
photographed by cinematographer, Leon Shamroy, exquisitely scored by David
Raksin, and, given over to the visual aplomb of production designer, Lyle
Wheeler and costumer, René Hubert, Forever
Amber emerged as something of a lush and lovely, eye-popping spectacle;
Fox’s trademarked garish use of Technicolor at its most gaudy and glistening,
yields to a ravishing milieu that tragically and singularly fails to enthrall. Perhaps
audiences of the day expected better – or at least – more of the novel’s
combustible and scintillating ardor. The movie equally suffers from the
miscasting of Linda Darnell and Cornel Wilde; two undeniably handsome people
who fail to generate the elusive spark of on-screen chemistry to make their
passionate love affair click. It doesn’t help the screenplay keeps its lovers
apart for the bulk of the film’s138 minute run time. While Darnell is in
virtually every scene, Wilde floats in and out of the story – each time with a
little more abject contempt and self-righteous piety for our sexually
adventurous heroine.

Our tale begins
on a lonely country road during the revolt of English Parliament. Oliver
Cromwell’s armies have set ablaze the court of King Charles I; the royal
carriage escaping with a baby swaddled in a blanket; the name ‘Amber’
embroidered on it. Moments before Cromwell’s forces assassinate the coachman
and protectors of this noble babe, one of the guards manage to leave the bundle
on the front stoop of a Puritan farmer, Matt Goodgroome (Leo G. Carroll) and
his wife (Edith Evanson). The couple secretly rears the girl as their own.
Amber (Linda Darnell) grows up willful and resentful for being forced to remain
on this bucolic hamlet and seemingly reticent about marrying any of the men her
father may chose as her husband. Instead, learning of a coach carrying noblemen
Lord Bruce Carlton (Cornell Wilde) and his best friend, Lord Harry Almsbury
(Richard Green), Amber hurries to the local inn, pretending to have come to
assist the innkeepers in their duties for the night.

After the others
have gone to bed, Amber implores Bruce to take her to London. He is unimpressed
by her begging – even by her beauty, which is considerable; perhaps already
understanding with a clear eye and uncompromising heart, just how wickedly
determined the girl is to have her way. She cares not for him; only for what
she can get from him in her blind-sided pursuit of a better life. Harry is
smitten with Amber. But she is oblivious to his sincere affections. Realizing
Amber prefers Bruce, for the girl is rather transparent in her desires, Harry
magnanimously encourages his best friend to reconsider. Bruce, however, is
equally as stubborn as Amber, perhaps more so. Amber defies Bruce’s rejection,
tailing the pair to London where she deceptively worms her way into Bruce’s
heart, convincing him of her ‘genuine affections’. The two quickly become
lovers and Bruce begins to care for Amber. Tragedy will eventually unravel
their lives, ironically as Amber grows increasingly sincere in her love for
Bruce, while he jealously spurs her affections.

In the meantime,
the randy king with a roving eye, Charles II (George Sanders) believes Bruce is
still harboring affections toward his present mistress, Barbara Palmer,
Countess Castelmaine (Natalie Draper), with whom Bruce once carried on a fairly
torrid liaison. To clear the playing field, Charles orders Bruce into a
privateering mission in the South Seas. Harry encourages Bruce to tell Amber
the truth, but Bruce elects to sneak off into the night instead, leaving Harry
with the unpleasant task of informing Amber their brief affair is at an end.
Still unconvinced of the depth of Amber’s affections, Bruce has nevertheless
not been unkind, affording Amber 200 pounds to satisfy all existing debts;
also, to leave a comfortable sum to support her while she searches for suitable
work. Amber gives birth to their child –
a secret she has kept locked tight inside her heart. Afterward, she makes
provisions to have the child reared in the country while she pursues other
prospects.

Regrettably,
without Bruce as her protector, and still very much naïve to the ways of the
world, Amber is swindled out of these savings by her dressmaker, Mrs. Abbott
(Norma Varden) and a crooked investor, Landale (Alan Napier). In the resulting
trial to settle Amber’s outstanding debts, Abbott and Landale suggest Amber is
the con artist. With no one to speak for her, the judge sentence Amber to
prison. There, Amber is made the object of affection for the male prisoners,
catching the eye of highwayman, ‘Black’ Jack Mallard (John Russell). Like the others, Jack wants more from Amber
than she is ultimately willing to give.
However, she strikes a bargain – one of mutual benefit. Jack is
scheduled to hang. Instead, he manages a daring escape, taking Amber with him
to the house of aider/abettor Mother Red Cap (Anne Revere) who is none too
friendly, but decides Amber has certain qualities to be exploited. Jack and Red
Cap use Amber to lure rich men from the tavern into a nearby alley where Jack
and his cohorts brutally attack and rob them of their purses.

Tragically, one
such ambush goes hopelessly awry; the police cornering and killing Jack. Amber
narrowly escapes, taking refuge in the home of Captain Rex Morgan (Glenn
Langan). Discovered by Rex, Amber’s first inclination is to lie about fleeing
an unwanted roué’s advances. However, when the king’s guard comes to his front door,
explaining the real reason for their search, Morgan lies to save Amber from
prosecution. Next, he endeavors to spare Amber from the hangman’s noose by
encouraging the director of the nearby theater to take the girl on as an
understudy. Under provisions from the crown, all actors share the king’s
protection – hence, Amber cannot be prosecuted for her crime. Diligently, Amber procures enough savings to
‘buy back’ her son from Red Cap and send him to the country for good.

Rex is hardly
the benevolent sort, however. In fact, when he unearths that Amber has been
seeing Bruce while he was in Wales he accuses Bruce of dishonor. Unable to
convince Rex no such infraction was intended, Bruce is forced into a duel.
Several times, Bruce attempts to alter the rules of the game so a mere flesh
wound will satisfy Rex’s sense of chivalry. Alas, Rex arrogantly proclaims the
duel will only end when one of them is dead. Amber arrives on the field of
battle, consoled by Harry in the murky early morning fog while the conflict unfolds. Resigned to satisfy the gentleman’s honor,
Bruce begrudgingly kills Rex with his sword. Believing she is now free to
pursue the only relationship ever truly desired, Amber’s dreams of a life
together with Bruce are thwarted when he becomes plagued by guilt for taking a
man’s life and blames Amber for both their plights. Whether Amber realizes it
immediately or not, the love they once shared has died along with Rex on the
field of honor. Bruce will never take her back.

Bruce leaves
England again. This time in his absence, Amber is wooed by the widowed Earl of
Radcliffe (Richard Hayden) who is far too old for her. At first, refusing his
advances, Amber eventually agrees to be wed to this elder statesman. Such a
union will afford her not only the luxuries of the earl’s wealth, but also a
title above Bruce’s own. Alas, Amber’s fragile reasoning and flawed logic for
the marriage is interrupted when, on her wedding day no less, she learns from
Harry that Bruce has returned and is, at this very moment, attempting to unload
his ship’s cargo at the docks in London. The city is under the siege of the
plague; Amber disobeying Harry’s sound advice and setting aside her safety to
race to the docks. There, she discovers Bruce already stricken with the first
signs of the plague. Rushing him to the nearby boarded up home once shared with
Rex, Amber attempts to nurse Bruce back to health. Before long, however, she
discovers herself ill equipped, employing a nurse of spurious credentials, Mrs.
Spong (Margaret Wycherly), to look after her beloved as he continues to slip in
and out of delirium. Discovering Amber’s wedding ring on the kitchen table
while Amber is asleep at Bruce’s bedside, Mrs. Spong plots to steal both it and
a priceless cameo from the end table next to Bruce’s bed. Thankfully, her plot
to strangle the weakened Bruce after he stirs in the middle of her foiled
robbery is thwarted by Amber who awakens and strangling Mrs. Spong instead,
passing off her lifeless body to one of the quarantine guards as just another
victim of the plague.

Bruce recovers.
And although Amber is overjoyed, the Earl of Radcliffe – having found them out
– orders Bruce to never return to England. Bruce elects to go to Virginia and
Amber is increasingly kept under lock and key by the Earl, who has become
boorish and domineering; even preventing Amber from an audience with Charles II
after she makes quite an impression at one of his court balls at Whitehall.
Later, fire rips through the city. Despite its approaching threat, the earl
refuses to release Amber from her locked bedroom in Radcliffe Hall. She is
eventually saved from certain death as the flames lick up the sides of the
walls by the earl’s devoted servant, Galeazzo (Jimmy Ames) who, realizing him
mad with jealousy, murders his master, before tossing him into the inferno.

Free of her
husband – though not his money – Amber now pursues Charles II and is swiftly
ensconced as the King’s mistress at Whitehall. Reveling in her newfound
position, Amber has everything she could possibly want – except love. And
Charles, apart from being tempted by her sinful beauty, is no fool. Hence, when
their garden interlude is interrupted by the sudden reappearance of Bruce with
another woman, Corinne (Jane Ball), Charles’ senses the need to draw the couple
nearer his own bosom to better understand how deeply Amber’s heart stirs. Bruce
introduces Corinne as his wife. The two were married in Virginia. Determined to
wreck the marriage, Amber invites Corinne as a guest of the King to Whitehall
for the evening, feigning a headache and thus leaving Corinne alone to be
seduced by Charles in his parlor. Amber is certain Charles will waste no time.
Hence, she preempts the moment by concocting a letter exposing Corrine’s
infidelity to Bruce.

Instead, Corinne
impresses Charles with her devotion to Bruce and her honesty. Moreover, he can
completely admire and appreciate a woman’s loyalty above all else; particularly
since he now unequivocally understands Amber harbors no such sincerities toward
him. Calling Amber on her bluff, Charles quietly explains he has not minded
playing the fop in her sadistic plan. He only regrets Amber will never truly
love him. As there are plenty of other willing maidens to choose from, Charles
orders Amber from the palace – a particularly costly exile. Amber’s only
consolation is that Bruce Jr. will be coming with her. Perhaps together in the
country they can begin anew – mother and son. Bruce arrives at the palace as the ladies in
waiting are nearly finished packing Amber’s possessions. He tells Amber he and
Corinne desire to adopt the child. But Amber is vehemently opposed to giving up
the one treasure she has left to sell; especially since Bruce intends to rear
the boy in Virginia. Alas, the decision is not up to Amber. For, having told Bruce
their son may choose for himself which parent he would prefer, Amber is
bitterly disillusioned when the child (knowing nothing of their panged
relationship) elects to go to America with his father, whom he has only
superficially known at best. Angrily, Amber banishes Bruce and their son from
her quarters, rushing to the window with bittersweet tears to quietly observe
as her last hope for any happiness is dashed; Bruce and his son departing from
the kingdom in his carriage.

On paper, Forever Amberis a fairly ambitious and
compelling tale of a woman’s self-destruction, made wholly and unnecessarily complicated
and complete by her own ill-fated life’s decisions. On film, however, the
plight of Amber St. Clair becomes little more than rank melodrama, gussied up
by A-list production values. The Dunne/Lardner screenplay does an impressive
job of distilling the novel’s timeline into a manageable would-be epic. But at
138 minutes, Forever Amberfalls
short of the ‘road show’ spectacle Zanuck had originally envisioned, in part,
because the movie’s rough cut was eviscerated in the editing process at the
behest of the Production Code: whole scenes excised and/or re-shot to receive
its seal of approval. Zanuck’s clashes with the code are legendary. In
hindsight, his reoccurring battles on Forever
Amber, having to veer so far away from the novel in order to make any movie based upon it, were a primary
reason Zanuck would later cite for leaving Fox at its zenith to make pictures
independently abroad. If Forever Amber
lacks narrative impetus or character motivation, it is arguably the fault of
Zanuck’s inability to win these battles with censorship rather than Zanuck’s
fervent desire and meticulous pre-planning to transform the novel into a screen
spectacle on par with Gone with the Wind.

Sadly, Forever Amber is noGone with the Wind,
despite its all-star cast and the immeasurable gifts bestowed upon its
production by those toiling being the scenes. What’s there is always expertly
crafted, if leaden when realized by Linda Darnell and Cornel Wilde. Curiously,
Darnell seems reticent to portray the sultry Amber in all her ruthless
objectives. Darnell was hardly a stranger to playing the vixen as she had
already amply proven with Chihuahua in John Ford’s My Darling Clementine (1946) and would illustrate again, as Lora
May Hollingsway two years thereafter for Joe Mankewicz in A Letter to Three Wives (1949). As Amber St. Clair, Darnell is
stiff and uninspired: pitiably nervous at times too and simpering to a fault.
Amber ought to have been a fiery wench who could either gingerly cut her teeth
on any man’s heart or trample it into the ground. Darnell’s viper is little
more than a wounded lamb in wolf’s clothing; lost, confused and totally out of
her depth.

Cornel Wilde’s
career has always fascinated me. Here is a man who rarely rises above his
material and frequently pandered to the crowd by unabashedly displaying the
obviousness of his physical prowess as compensation. Yet, even in his own time ‘hunks’
were considered a dime a dozen, rarely given the opportunity to progress beyond
B-grade matinee idol. By comparison, Wilde’s career is downright enviable,
playing everything from a flamboyant trapeze artist (The Greatest Show on Earth 1952) to Frédéric Chopin (A Song to Remember 1945). Along the
way, he appeared opposite an privileged roster of A-list leading ladies and
worked for some of Hollywood’s biggest directors. To what fairy godmother does
the actor owe his career? Hmmm. In Forever
Amber, Wilde seems moderately hampered by his effete wig; given shoulder
pads that would make Dynasty’s Joan
Collins green with envy. He’s competent - though just barely and mostly
forgettable and flat. Forever Amber
would have immensely benefited from the presence of a Clark Gable or William
Holden. But Wilde was under contract to Zanuck, so we get his particular brand
of mediocrity instead.

Forever Amber arrives on Blu-ray via Twilight Time, alas, with far
less than stellar results. At the time Fox chose to release this movie via its
MOD/DVD archive, I considered that disc nothing better than a Frisbee. I now
suspect these very same elements have been regurgitated for this new to Blu
release. What an ugly little mess it is! The main titles appear crisp and inviting. But
once we move into the body of the piece it’s the same old story. We all know
the history of Fox’s short-sightedness in the mid-1970’s; junking virtually all
of their original 3-strip Technicolor elements and archiving only poorly
contrasted (oft, misregistered) Eastman IP’s for posterity. Badly done, but
especially for a picture like Forever
Amber, on which Zanuck had lavished a grotesque amount of time and money
(the picture, holding the dubious distinction of being the most expensive movie
ever made at Fox from 1947 to 1956). Virtually none of these assets are on full
display in this abysmal and very second-rate 1080p offering.

We have witnessed
Fox work minor miracles on other back catalog suffering a similar fate; Leave Her To Heaven (1945), Captain from Castile (1947) and Niagara (1953) among them. Make no mistake:
none of the aforementioned accurately recaptures the vibrancy of vintage
Technicolor either. But at least they sport reasonably attractive and refined images,
with considerable color correction and image stabilization applied to elicit a
watchable incarnation. Forever Amber
has not been the recipient of such attention to detail. I would argue, this is
not even a new scan from Fox because what I am seeing here looks suspiciously
close to my DVD-viewing experience with marginal improvements in overall image
resolution. Flesh tones are atrociously orange here. The whole image tends to
lean rather severely towards dark and muddy navy blues and/or pinkish reds. We
get clumpy colors throughout that, at times, suggest an almost ‘colorized’ approach
to a vintage B&W movie.

Worse, minor
edge enhancement has been applied to an image that, for the most part, is
sorely lacking in any fine detail, is frequently soft, slightly out of focus to
downright blurry, and sports amplified film grain and weaker than anticipated
contrast. This renders dark, or dimly lit scenes (of which there are many) a
muddy and indistinguishable mess. Honestly, this is one of the worst looking 1080p
transfers to emerge from Fox’s mastering facilities. I find nothing remotely
redeemable to recommend it to you! In no
way does Forever Amber minutely hint,
or even aspire to replicate its vintage Technicolor. There are moments where
only disembodied heads are discernible on the screen, floating in a sea of
murky blue-blackness. Misalignment of the original 3-strip Technicolor also
results in very annoying halos throughout this transfer.

Lastly, the Fox
logo appearing at the beginning of Forever
Amber is not indigenous to the period – but rather from a vintage owing to
the late 70’s, window-boxed to give the illusion it belongs, and, significantly
grainier than the rest of the image that follows it. In the 70’s it became
something of the mis-guided fashion among all of the studios to take their
older movies, lop off the original logos and insert what was then their more contemporary
alternatives. Dumb! Ridiculous practice, indeed. Fox could have easily
unearthed a vintage logo to reinstate for this transfer. A good many Fox movies
from this same vintage have already found their way to Blu-ray with the gaudy-hue
Technicolor Fox logo. So, how hard could it have been to do the same here?!? Also, if this transfer has been derived from a new 4K scan, as it has been advertised, it's one of the most disheartening examples I have ever seen - period!

Forever Amber’s original mono audio has been faithfully reproduced
with minimal hiss and virtually no pop – impressive on the whole. Two extras to consider: the first, A&E's Biography Special on Linda Darnell (good to have this back on home video), and David Raksin’s superb underscore, isolated on an alternative
track. It’s one of the composer’s best, superbly orchestrated by Fox’s resident
composer/conductor, Alfred Newman. Bottom line: pass, and be very glad that you
did! Regrets.

About Me

Nick Zegarac is a freelance writer/editor and graphics artist. He holds a Masters in Communications and an Honors B.A in Creative Lit from the University of Windsor.
He is currently a freelance writer and has been a contributing editor for Black Moss Press and is a featured contributor to online's The Subtle Tea. He's also has had two screenplays under consideration in Hollywood.
Last year he finished his first novel and is currently searching for an agent to represent him.
Contact Nick via email at movieman@sympatico.ca